Page 8 of Love It or List It
Austin wanted to argue that wasn’t true—wanted to volunteer to take all those tins home with him—but where would he put them?He didn’t have a ton of room at his place, and he needed to keep the shop tidy.
“Look,” Joe said, “if it got dog crap on it, would you clean it off?If not, it’s garbage.”
In spite of himself, Austin snorted.“That’s, uh… that’s an interesting metric.”
Joe grinned.“It’s what my mom tells her clients when they’re decluttering before listing a house.It works, though.”
“Fair enough.”
With that in mind, and the help of the extra-large box of extra-large garbage bags, they cleared off the rest of the countertops and then stopped for a water break.
Automatically, Austin moved toward the fridge—it would be great if DeeDee had some bottled water in there; that stuff didn’t go bad—but Joe stepped in front of him.“Whoa, whoa.That thing does not get opened inside the house.”
Austin looked at the fridge, then at the doorway to the kitchen.“Where were you planning on opening it?”
“Honestly, I was thinking about padlocking it shut and burying it in the yard—”
Outside, a car door slammed.
Austin blinked.“Were you expecting someone?”
Joe closed his eyes.“Oh Jesus,” he said.“That’s probably my kids.”
“Your kids,” Austin said slowly, eyeing Joe up.Nope, Joe still looked about his age, and barring high-school pregnancy, not old enough to have kids over the age of middle school.
“Not like biologically or legally,” Joe admitted, “but emotionally?”He led the way out of the kitchen and toward the hall.Curious, Austin followed.
“I have questions.”
Joe sighed.“Most people do.”
Austin opened his mouth but was cut off by the arrival of four teenagers.Unless he missed his guess, they were recent high-school grads or just about to be.
They stumbled to a halt, gazes jumping everywhere as they looked around the house, clearly just as curious about the contents as Joe and Austin.
“What are you doing here?”Joe sighed, sounding for all the world like a weary single parent.
Four heads snapped in their direction.“Joe!”said the tallest and most energetic of the group.He practically vibrated.
Then all four of them caught sight of Austin, lingering behind Joe.After a beat, they burst into laughter, and before Joe or Austin could say anything, they stumbled back out of the house into the rain.
Austin blinked.“Was it something I said?”
“If anyone ever tells you they’re going to adopt a bunch of preteen kids, tell them no.”Joe shook his head and went back to the kitchen.
“So many questions,” Austin whispered.
JOE CONTEMPLATEDnext steps while his devil children lost their collective shit over Austin.
His hair was pulled back into a ponytail today so that it was out of his face, and he’d tied a bandana around his head, presumably to protect it from dust and other questionable content.If Joe’s hair weren’t short, he’d probably have done the same.
But even without the photo-ready curls, Austin still looked extremely kissable, in spite of—or maybe because of?—the old work clothes.
“So,” Austin started when he rejoined Joe in the kitchen.
Joe shook his head, but he might as well answer the questions now instead of waiting.“I taught Meg how to swim years ago, God, before she had braces.I grew fond and she came with an entourage.”
“I see,” Austin said, in a tone that implied that he didn’t but was too polite to say so.
